LOVING ELLIE

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LOVING ELLIE Page 9

by Brookes, Lindsey


  She looked up as her aunt entered the kitchen from the adjoining laundry room.

  “Oh, honey,” her aunt said with a frown as she placed the basket of clean clothes she held in her arms on the table, “are you still fretting over what happened this morning?”

  Her first thought was to deny it, but her aunt knew better. “I wish you hadn’t of called Blaine to come help. I could have gotten the cows back into the pasture without him.”

  “And repaired the fence, too?” Reaching into the basket, her aunt pulled out several of J.B.’s tshirts and began to fold them into neat little squares. “You would have frozen to death before you got those stubborn cows to move their sorry hides.”

  “Sheriff Cooke didn’t seem to have any problem coaxing them back into the pasture.”

  Her aunt looked up at her across the table. “Sheriff Cooke is it?”

  Yes. Because saying Blaine’s name aloud was far too painful.

  “And about those cows,” her aunt said, not giving her a chance to reply, “the sheriff grew up on a ranch. You did not.”

  No, she had been raised in the city. She knew about flagging down taxis and ordering mocha lattes. Nothing at all about herding farm animals. “Still…”

  Her aunt lowered the shirt she was folding with a sigh. “Honey, you were bound to run into Sheriff Cooke sooner or later. He lives here.”

  “But I didn’t know that. I could have moved somewhere else.” Anywhere else.

  “Nonsense,” her aunt said, clicking her tongue. “This is where you and your son need to be.” Her aunt pushed a stack of J.B.’s clothes across the table to Victoria. “With family who loves you.”

  Victoria struggled with the choice she’d made to move to Eagle Ridge with her son. Not only because of Blaine and the bitterness he very clearly harbored towards her, but because her son was still lashing out at anyone and everyone he could. Her great aunt and uncle included. It wasn’t fair to them.

  “Honey, you’re going to leave creases in your brow if you keep on frowning like that,” her aunt warned.

  Ellie placed her son’s clean clothes into the laundry basket she’d set on the chair beside her. “Blaine was right. You and Uncle Jed have enough to deal with without my adding to it. I shouldn’t have come here.”

  Her aunt stepped around the table to place a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Get that thought right out of your head. Your uncle and I are so happy you’re here. Truth is having you and J.B. around has breathed life back into your Uncle Jed.”

  “But my son is out of control,” she said, feeling the sting of tears. “I knew he was mad at me for everything that’s happened, but I never thought he’d take his anger out on you and Uncle Jed, too.”

  “The boy’s hurting, Victoria. He’ll work through it.”

  She wished she could believe that. But her son had been acting out since the divorce was final, nearly a year before. And his behavior was only getting worse.

  “Maybe I should have him talk to someone,” Victoria said, her heart aching.

  “You’ve only just arrived. Give the boy a chance to settle in first. See how he does.” Her aunt gave her a loving squeeze and then walked back around to the other side of the table where she reached into the basket and pulled out a pair of J.B.’s jeans. “In the meantime, we need to keep talking to him. Need to assure him that he’s loved.”

  Not by his father. “I’m trying, but J.B. keeps shutting me out. He blames me for the divorce and maybe he’s right.”

  “Hogwash. You did everything you could to make your marriage work for J.B.’s sake. But it had to work for you, too, and it wasn’t. Somewhere out there is a man who will make you happy again and give your son the ‘father’ figure he deserves.”

  The last thing she needed was another man in her life which meant she would have to find some other way to give her son a male figure he could look up to. Maybe there was a Big Brothers organization in the area she could contact.

  “Maybe Sheriff Cooke would be willing to spend some time with J.B.,” her aunt suggested.

  “No,” Victoria blurted out. “Aunt Myra, promise me you won’t say anything to Blaine about my son.” She’d hurt Blaine enough without rubbing salt in the wound that still festered in his heart.

  “I won’t say anything, dear.” Her aunt picked up the empty laundry basket and started for the laundry room, pausing in the doorway. “But seems a shame not to seeing as how he doesn’t have commitments other than work. It’s beyond me how a young man that handsome never found the right woman. But then…” her words trailed off as she continued on through the doorway and into the next room.

  Then what? Her heart skipped a beat. Blaine had never married? She wanted to think it was because he stilled loved her, but she knew better. Love wasn’t the emotion he had been emitting that morning. Another possibility, her actions all those years ago had left Blaine unable to trust another woman. If that were true…

  Unable to live with herself if that were the case, Victoria crossed the room and grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter. Digging out her car keys, she called out, “Aunt Myra, I have to run out for a bit. Is it okay to leave J.B. here?”

  Her aunt returned with a basket of freshly washed linens. “He’ll be fine. You be careful out there. Those roads are still slick in spots.”

  “I will be,” Victoria assured her as she shrugged into her coat. “I won’t be long.” Opening the back door, she let herself out, intent on her mission. She owed it to Blaine to set things right. To make him understand that he had nothing to do with her pulling away that summer. Even if it meant drudging up a past she’d just as soon forget.

  *

  A light tap on the open office door had Blaine turning from the window. Victoria stood in the doorway, her thickly-lashed green eyes studying him intently. The sight of her set his traitorous pulse to racing. Just as it had all those years ago. He mentally cursed himself for reacting to her presence at all.

  He tore his gaze away and walked back to his desk. “Is there something you need?” He tried, but failed to keep the bitterness from his voice.

  “Your forgiveness to start with.”

  The softly spoken words only served to fan the flames of his anger. “There’s nothing to forgive.” Refusing to look at her, he busied himself with rifling through papers on his desk.

  She stepped into the room and closed the door firmly. The sound succeeded in drawing his narrowed gaze her direction. “I know you hate me,” she said, the words catching in her throat. “And I don’t blame you. But I can’t bear the thought of living here, knowing we’ll be running into each other, and having this thing hanging over us.”

  His jaw clenched. “This thing only exists in your mind. I moved on a long time ago.” The lie clawed at his gut. Her earlier words finally made their way fully into his mind. “Did you say living here?”

  She nodded. “J.B. and I are going to be staying with my aunt and uncle until I can find a place to buy or rent.”

  Panic set in. “Permanently?”

  “Yes.”

  You can’t do that, he wanted to argue. But she could.

  “I hope our being here won’t be a problem for you.”

  For him? What about her? She’d been the one who’d led him to believe they had something special only to break off all contact the moment she went back to school at the end of that summer. Her cutting him out of her life that way had destroyed any feelings he’d once held for her.

  “Will J.B.’s father be joining you?” he asked with a glance at her ring hand. “Or did you run out on him, too?” The spiteful words were out before he thought better of them.

  “No,” she said, before he could offer an apology. She ran her slender fingers over the spot where her wedding band used to sit. “He won’t be joining us. We’re divorced. And to answer your question, he ran out on us a long time ago.”

  His first thought was what goes around comes around, but there was a child involved. “How old is you
r son?”

  “What?”

  “J.B.,” he replied. “How old is he?”

  She hesitated before answering, “He’ll be ten in a few months.”

  It only took a moment for the truth to settle in. “You were pregnant that summer?”

  Unshed tears glistened in her eyes. “Yes. But I didn’t know it at the time.”

  “So what was I, Victoria? Your summer fling?” Muttering a curse, he stood and crossed the room to the door, yanking it open. “Never mind. Don’t answer that.”

  “Blaine, please…”

  “You need to leave,” he said through painfully clenched teeth.

  She held her ground, much to his surprise. “Not until you give me a chance to explain.”

  He crossed his arms and waited, hearing the stubborn determination in her voice. She wasn’t going to leave until she’d said her piece.

  “It won’t change anything.”

  “Maybe not, but I owe you an explanation.”

  A little too late for that. He kept that thought to himself. “Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he muttered.

  “I met J.B.’s father in college. We dated on and off, mostly off. I was young and stupid and thought sleeping with him would fix whatever was wrong with our relationship. It didn’t. So I broke things off for good. Or so I thought.” She walked over to the window he’d been standing at when she arrived and stood staring out. “That summer I met you. Everything was so perfect.”

  Blaine’s hands clenched at the memory of the time they’d spent together.

  “Until I went home and discovered I was pregnant.” She turned to face him with tears in her eyes. “I wished more than anything that J.B. had been yours, but that wasn’t even a possibility. The day I saw that little blue line across that wretched stick, I knew my happiness no longer counted. I had to do what was right for my son.”

  Fool he was, he wanted to go to her. Wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her. Instead, he remained rooted in one spot, slowly digesting her words.

  “You could have told me what was going on,” he rasped out. “Instead of shutting me out the way you did.”

  “I let you go the only way I could at the time,” she admitted. “I was young and scared and thought it would hurt you less to think I hadn’t cared for you as much as I did than have to tell you that I was marrying some other man. A man whose child I carried inside me.”

  “You didn’t have to marry him,” he said with a frustrated growl.

  “I know that now.” Her emerald gaze searched his. “You never got married?”

  “Never wanted to.” The lies were piling up. What was he doing? He was a man of the law. A man of integrity. But none of his untruths could be as bad as what she hadn’t said that summer. He’d been ready to share a lifetime with Victoria when all along she had been carrying another man’s child. He found it hard to believe she hadn’t known?

  She looked at him, a hint of confusion in her eyes. “But that summer…”

  He managed a tight chortle. “Was as real for me as it apparently was for you.”

  Her soft gasp didn’t have the effect he’d hoped for. He’d wanted to hurt her back. Make her think he hadn’t cared. Just as she hadn’t despite her profession of love that summer. But wanting and doing were two different things and his hurting anyone, even Victoria, didn’t sit well with Blaine.

  Her gaze fell to a spot on the floor at her feet while her perfect, white teeth nipped fretfully at her bottom lip.

  “Victoria…”

  She raised her chin slowly, tears shimmering in her eyes. “I’ve said what I came to say. I only hope you won’t take your hatred for me out on my son. He’s paid enough for my past mistakes as it is.” Before he could respond, she was gone.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Ellie glanced at the clock by her bed with an anxious frown. She had stalled leaving her room that morning for as long as she could. Any longer and she was quite certain Lucas would be coming in to check on her.

  She’d heard him milling about in his room earlier that morning before he went out to see to the animals, and then briefly when he’d returned. Since then, silence. It was Sunday. Maybe Lucas had gone into town to attend church. She hoped that was the case. His going into town would give her a bit more of a reprieve.

  Lucas had been back in Eagle Ridge for nearly a week and by some miracle she’d managed to skirt the issue of giving up her baby for adoption. She’d been busy with work and he’d been busy seeing to things around the ranch. But she knew without a doubt the ‘talk’ was coming. Lucas himself had stated the night before that he was looking forward to spending her day off with her and getting to know his nephew’s mother better. Only she wasn’t going to be his nephew’s mother. Some other woman would. When was he going to get that through his thick skull?

  A yawn escaped her, the result of yet another restless night. Not surprising she supposed with so many things weighing on her mind. She was about to make the most selfless decision she would ever have to make in her life – finding the perfect family for her son.

  She couldn’t afford to wait much longer. She had to meet with the lawyer she’d called to handle the private adoption and set things in motion. Then there would be all the files of couples hoping to adopt she would need to read through thoroughly. And then she would insist on meeting with the couples she felt were a possible fit for her son.

  Another contributor to her lack of sleep was Lucas. He had done everything he could to make her feel comfortable living at the ranch. And she was that. Too comfortable actually. That was the problem.

  She wanted to hate his constant fussing over her, his determination to take care of everything no matter how small the task, even his having come back. But she didn’t. She liked having him there. It gave her a temporary reprieve from the loneliness that had returned to her life.

  Opening her bedroom door, Ellie sighed. Any hope that Lucas had gone into town slid away as the mouthwatering aroma of fried eggs and bacon and freshly brewed coffee drifted past her. She tried to fight the temptation, to delay the inevitable, but hunger won out. She made her way to the kitchen, her stomach growling in anticipation.

  Lucas glanced up at her over the wisps of steam rising from his coffee cup. A slow smile moved across his face. “Morning.”

  “Morning,” she replied, avoiding his gaze as she moved past him to the refrigerator.

  “Juice is on the table,” he tossed back over his shoulder as she scanned the shelves on the door for the carton.

  She closed the door with a frown. Did he know all of her habits?

  “There’s bacon and eggs on the stove,” he added. “And a cup of decaf tea in the microwave. You might need to warm it up a bit.”

  He’d made her tea? Yet another gesture of kindness from a man she had thought so badly of in the past. One of the many things he’d done to ‘lessen her load’ since arriving at the ranch.

  Ellie reached for the fork and clean plate he’d left on the counter by the stove. “You didn’t have to make me anything. I could have-”

  “Made your own,” he finished for her. “I know. But I figured since I was cooking myself some I’d go ahead and make a little extra.”

  She filled her plate, grabbed the cup of tea he’d fixed her from the microwave, and then walked over to take a seat at the table across from him. “Thank you.”

  “Still warm?” he said, nodding at her cup.

  “Warm enough.”

  He sat for a long moment studying her. “Sleep well last night?”

  She looked up from her plate, meeting his gaze. “Like a log.”

  One dark brow lifted.

  “As well as can be expected,” she confessed with a tired sigh. She knew the dark circles under her eyes were a dead giveaway to the sleep she hadn’t gotten. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  “Speaking of which,” he said, his teasing expression growing serious, “we need to talk.”

  “Now?”

 
“Now.”

  She pushed the eggs around her plate with her fork. “I suppose I should be grateful you waited this long.”

  “You were completely exhausted when I first arrived. Definitely not in any condition to deal with more added stress. But it’s time you and I discuss this crazy notion you have of giving the baby up.”

  “It’s not crazy,” she said, her appetite quickly waning. “And it’s my decision to make. Not yours.”

  “That baby you’re carrying is my flesh and blood. I think that gives me some say so.”

  “Not legally,” she pointed out. Lowering her fork to her plate, she peered up at him. “Look, I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “What I want to hear is that you didn’t mean it. That you weren’t thinking straight,” Lucas muttered with a frown. “Anything but that you’re actually considering giving up your baby.”

  “Not considering,” she calmly corrected, despite the turmoil going on inside her. “Am going to.”

  His expression grew hard. “Then give him to me.”

  “What?” she gasped as his angry gaze met hers.

  “Let me adopt your son.”

  “You?”

  “I’m his uncle. The last connection to his father he has. If you aren’t willing to raise him, then let me do it.”

  She pushed away from the table and walked over to the window to look out. To look at anything but the condemnation she saw in Lucas’s eyes when he looked at her.

  “My son is going to have two parents who love him. A complete family.” She turned to face him. “Can you give him that?” A pained expression came over his face that instantly made her regret asking, remembering that he had lost his wife a few years before. But she had to make him understand.

  “No one could love him any more than I will,” he finally replied, his voice thick.

  “And you’re going to have time to raise a baby while you’re off herding horses or whatever it is you do down there in Brazil?”

 

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